Control Of The Mind
by Iris Amelia
Summary: **Chapter Seven Uploaded** Originally known as "Vile Interests." EnjoI! Burns has a plan up his sleeve; would Zoey be in trouble?...Find out!
1. Welcoming

Chapter 1: Welcoming  
  
"You're gonna love it here, Zoey, I know it!" said my mother, over enthusiastically. I hated when she seemed like Barney, the Purple Dinosaur.  
  
'That's such a lie,' I thought. "Yes, Mom, I know!" I said, semi- sarcastically. "Oy vey.." "Don't worry, Zoey, everything will be fine. Now, just down that sidewalk--you will reach School. Good luck!" "Thanks," I said, stepping out of the car.  
  
I walked down the sidewalk that was in a new little town. It had a school, a power plant, a store, supermarket...It was pretty nice. It was...unique. Better than where I lived in before--we were like drones there. Too neighborly. Now that's changed.  
  
I looked at my watch. 8:12 am. I sighed, and I knew I had to get somewhere important; That was school. I started to jog a little, hoping I wouldn't be too late.  
  
Well, I'm Zoey, and I'm new here at Springfield. It seems like a nice place. Pretty funny too. I go to Springfield Elementary now, and I don't know what's gonna happen to me....  
  
* * * * *  
  
A few papers were being thrown around, along with paper airplanes. Pencils were flying too. A loud class room; roudy and noisy, was about to begin. I peeked through the door and took a breath. Ms. Krabappel, who had cottonballls in her ears, motioned for me to come in.  
  
"Class, class...CLASS!!! Everyone please welcome Zoey!" Ms. Krabappel called out to the students. I noticed an ashtray on her desk.  
  
"Hi, Zoey," everyone said in unison, with a dull tone.  
  
"Um...hi," I replied. I knew the procedure well.  
  
"Zoey, you sit next to Bart," Ms. Krabappel said. As I walked to the seat, Ms. Krabappel pulled me back and whispered, "Good luck." I smiled nervously and sat down next to Bart. He was yellow, with spiky hair, a red shirt and blue shorts. I noticed a skateboard behind his desk.  
  
"Hiya," Bart greeted.  
  
"Hey," I replied.  
  
"So, you're new here, huh?" Bart asked.  
  
"Yeah...I feel so screwed."  
  
"Eh, tell me about it," he sat up and twindled a pencil.  
  
Ms. Krabappel then wrote on the board, "Student Assignment: INTERVIEW." I looked at it and raised an eyebrow. I heard Bart mutter, "What the hell?" Ms. Krabappel then took a box out of a drawer and put it on her desk.  
  
"Now I want all of you to come up and pick a piece of paper from this box. That person will be the one who you will be interviewing. This is a good assignment for, you Zoey. You know, to get you started. All right everyone! Come up!"  
  
All the kids ran to the front of the room. I almost got trampled down. I reached my hand into the box and thankfully pulled out a piece of paper. I sighed and walked back to my desk while Bart followed. He sat down and opened his paper.  
  
"All right! Krusty! Whoo hoo!" he exclaimed, pumping his fists into the air.  
  
I laughed. "You're lucky, Bart. A kinda know Krusty; that clown. Good show. Now let's see who I got."  
  
Bart leaned over my shoulder as I opened the paper. I read the name and gasped.  
  
Bart's eyes widened and said, "Well, you're unlucky. "  
  
"Why?" I asked.  
  
"You got Sideshow Bob!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
Bart slapped his forehead. "Sideshow Bob! He's the guy that tried to kill me!" Bart explained. "And lots of other crap.."  
  
"Oh. Well, maybe this can be interesting. I get to go to a penitentiary," I said, trying to brighten the situation.  
  
"You're crazy!" Bart yelled. He then sat down in his chair. "Or Ms. Krabappel is."  
  
"HAH!" Ms. Krabappel laughed.  
  
I sighed. "Well, be happy 'cuz I'm the one who's gonna be screwed, not you, Bart".  
  
"Alright!" Bart said and started laughing happily. He then added, "So, you got any valuables? I'll be glad to take them off your hands." 


	2. The Interview

Chapter 2: The Interview (or is it?)  
  
I slowly walked down a long corridor with a notepad and a pencil. (How predictable!)  
  
I sighed, thinking about the assignment. I have heard of Sideshow Bob before. Pretty cynical and notorious; crazy, but of course everyone knew he was smart. Quiet little fellow, or big since he was old. Well, not too old, he was in his mid 30s-40s. I looked around seeing sealed cells and janitors mopping the floor. There had been a fight..blecch..One corteous janitor waved at me so I waved back. Surprisingly, he looked Scottish..Finally, some form of happiness. Everything was grey, so very, very grey. Depressing, as if it was  
  
the PERFECT place for suicide, which it probably was. I approached a guard and showed him  
  
a permission slip from my mom and teacher.  
  
"They're very brave or very stupid people," the guard said. "Here." He handed me a piece of paper and a gun. "JUST in case he decides to have any funny business," he snickered.  
  
I held the gun in surprise. "All righty then," I replied with a slight smile.  
  
The guard punched in a code into a computer and two doors opened. I thanked the guard and walked into the next corridor. SO long...and it seemed so endless. I realized there MUST have been alot of convicts..  
  
"Lesse...Cell 2531 Block B..." I muttered, reading the slip of paper I received. "Here we go!" I approached a metal door.  
  
A sign near it said "WARNING: APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION." I sighed and pushed a buzzer.  
  
"Yes?" a voice said.  
  
"Um, yes, I'm here to speak with Robert Terwilliger. I'm Zoey, and my teacher assigned me to interview-?"  
  
"First of all, do you have a gun in your hands?" the voice asked.  
  
I blinked. "Uh...yes."  
  
"Well, if you want to speak with me then you will have to leave the gun outside," the voice said.  
  
I sighed, knowing that this was a great deal of a grade, I put down the gun. "Ok, I put it down."  
  
Soon, the man inside called the guard and had him open the door. I walked inside with my pencil behind my ear, a notebook in my hands. I looked around the room; It had only a bunkbed, a desk loaded with books, and a buzzer to call the guard(s).  
  
I heard the door slam and blinked. In front of me was a man, of course in uniform, with purple, maybe maroon, sproingy hair. He had a mysterious smile and stood up straight.  
  
"Hmm. I haven't seen you here, in town I mean," he noticed.  
  
"I just moved here, sir."  
  
He laughed. "Don't call me that. Call me Bob. I'm Sideshow Bob, at your service." He took a bow.  
  
"What kind? Community service?" I asked.  
  
"Don't make me laugh. So...why are you here?"  
  
"I'm, uh, supposed to interview you. I have no idea why though."  
  
"They're probably trying to kill you. Well, then, have a seat," Bob said.  
  
I sat down on the floor while he climbed up onto the bunkbed.  
  
"Where should I begin?" I asked him.  
  
"You're asking me? Heh, well, let's try my Record," Bob suggested.  
  
"All right then. What did you do to end up in here Bob? You're a pretty sophisticated person, and you're wasting your life in here."  
  
I paused and took a breath. "I thought you were smart."  
  
Bob fliched and blinked. "Oh? Are you calling me an idiot?"  
  
"No way! You're a criminal mastermind! 'Idioticity' is the last thing on your list, Bob."  
  
"I thought you said you weren't from around here," Bob inquired.  
  
"You're pretty famous so word spreads...like butter," I said, while doodling on the notepad aimlessly.  
  
"Oh? Am I?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Yeah!" I yelled. "You're pretty much my favorite criminal!' I blurted. "I like people with  
  
high IQs. I looked you up on my laptop, so..."  
  
Bob laughed. "Hah, I never knew there'd be someone who would like a villain."  
  
"No, really. You're pretty interesting, I assure you! I'm pretty smart myself, though I'm not really bragging. My IQ is a good 156."  
  
"Ooh...a smart one are we? Square root of 81?" Bob asked.  
  
"Nine." Bob raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Two dogs, four cats, and six birds equal how many legs?"  
  
"Thirty-six."  
  
Bob blinked. He ruffled his hair. "Who wrote the play 'The Wild Duck?'" Bob gave a smirk.  
  
"Ibsen..?" I said as I got up from the ground.  
  
Bob frowned. "You don't read plays."  
  
"I do too. According to my friends, I'm pretty much an oddball, since I love to read and draw. I don't really like TV too much or music by all of those gala and gaudy stars, such as Brittany or the Backstreet Boys," I said with a sad tone.  
  
Bob sighed. "I wouldn't complain. I tried to-"  
  
"Abolish TV? Yeah, I know. Now, I'm supposed to interview you, so when can we begin?"  
  
Bob sighed again. "Well, I did say I was going to tell you my Record. I tried to frame Krusty the Clown, one of my worst enemies. I tried to murder two people: Bart and Selma Simpson."  
  
"Bart?"  
  
"Yes," he said disgustingly. "BART. I also ran for mayor and for your information I won. But by.... fraud... of course." Bob stretched and blinked, moistening his eyes.  
  
"So, you've done some, Bob." I wrote down all of the information in the notepad and sighed. "Of course, you should be a very respectable person here...right?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, no one respects me here. They treat me like a clown." He shrugged and dug his hand into a pillowcase and pulled out a book.  
  
"Well, you were on Krusty's sho-"  
  
"I know that! I didn't want to do it...that much...but...the publicity...argh, I wish I had a little more respect here. Since we have no pies, they throw jell-o as if my life was a skit! I, of course, duck. But there IS whipped cream to go with it so it is as equally patronizing as a cream pie. " He turned a page.  
  
"Well, if it makes you feel any better..." I trailed off.  
  
"What? What?" Bob asked as he peered at me over the rim of the book.  
  
"I respect you."  
  
Bob was silent. He somehow, broke it."You do?"  
  
Sure. If I didn't I know who you were and disrespect you, I'd probably get myself killed. I'm not stupid, Bob, and I don't poke my nose where it doesn't belong." I wrote some things down and sighed.  
  
"You remind me of a somewhat Lisa Simpson, only not as annoying and foilful."  
  
"Heh...I don't know if that's a compliment...age?" I asked.  
  
"Forty-three."  
  
"Wow...no parole?" I continued writing.  
  
"Working on it. I know I'll get out of here soon. All I have to do is keep my mouth shut. It takes just a little convincing..."  
  
"Ok. Now...Bob..." I began.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Will you try to do another crime as soon as you get out of here or will you try to turn over a new leaf?"  
  
"I don't know if I'll just plant a new tree...I guess I could try to be good. It may be near impossible."  
  
"I can help," I suggested.  
  
"You? Bah! Hah, I don't know if you can do that." Bob turned a page from his book.  
  
"I can too! I already told you I'm a smart kid! AND I that I DO li-!" I paused. "I mean, respect you."  
  
Bob sighed deeply and glanced at the ceiling. He shrugged and looked at me.  
  
"Dear me. You would help me, a forty-three year old man, by the way thirty years older than you, washed up; probably demented, just so you can urge me to try to be a good citizen?" Bob asked.  
  
"Yes, I would. It's better than Brittany." "And then what would I do, to repay you?" "Nothing. Nothing at all. Just...a good deed, eh?"  
  
Bob closed the book and jumped down from the bunkbed. he paced back and forth, wondering what to do, or pondering on his next plan. He then looked at me and grabbed me by the collar, and stared deep into my eyes.  
  
"IF you double-cross me, child, I swear you'll be on my list of people to murder if I decide to go on a killing spree," he told me with clenched teeth. "I don't want to kill you though...it's so...ugh...too cruel." He strummed his fingers through some strands of my hair.  
  
"Such a large intellect you have; witty, smart. You're not stupid, but you might be crazy. You DO know what kind of trouble you can get into."  
  
I gulped and bit my lip. "You're just as crazy to accept my offer just as I who had offered it."  
  
He shot me a glare.  
  
"But, you're pretty interesting. And I'm not..." I trailed off again.  
  
"Not what?" he asked as he held me up by the collar. I took a breath and looked into his eyes.  
  
"I'm not scared of you, Robert Terwilliger." 


	3. Blood is Thicker than Water, eh?

Chapter 3: Blood is Thicker than Water, eh?  
  
"What?!" Bob exclaimed. In surprise, he let go of me and I fell onto the ground.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"How can you not be afraid of me?" Bob asked. "Even BART is afraid of me!"  
  
"I'm just not afraid!" I yelled. "I can trust you."  
  
((Now I bet you think that I'm pretty crazy. Hah! Trust an evil genius? Yeah right! Well, now I know that you, fanfic reader, that I am insane.))  
  
Bob blinked and stared at me, with a deranged look.  
  
"What? Trust ME? Hah! You're crazy!"  
  
"Yeah! I know that. You've pointed that out.." I joked. "So c'mon, Bob, let me help you. I know you'll get out of here somehow and you did say that you'd at least try to be good, so just don't ask and let me help you accomplish it." I got up and dusted myself off. I looked over my notes. Not enough. At least the assignment wasn't due until thursday. I sighed. "I still don't have enough information. I'll come back tomorrow."  
  
"Fine," Bob scowled. "But remember, Zoey: SPREE." I shuddered a little but somehow recomposed myself.  
  
"I don't like the candy either." I walked to the door. "Good bye, Bob, We'll talk again soon."  
  
I gave a wave and left the cell.  
  
In the prison, Bob was pondering...  
  
**Argh, pesky child. Why, oh why did that teacher gave that stupid assignment?! Bah! Ooh! Note to self: Kill teacher. Yet, she seems like a nice child. Not nosy, that's for sure. She wrote a letter of encouragement. Ha ha ha. I see one thing, I'm going to get out pretty soon. Beware, Springfield! I shall return! And you better not be off guard, because if you are, you'll be very,  
  
very sorry**  
  
A few hours later..  
  
**I did it again. I went into a fit of maniacal laughter. OW! I was hit by a shoe. Phew! Thank goodness it wasn't a golf shoe...Sometimes...I wish I had some dynamite..precious, precious dynamite...Blast it! I must get over that habit...Hmm...hey! What's that I hear? Why, yes! It's the mayor! Yes! He's come to release me! Joyous day! Joyous day! Yes! I'll be free! FREE!! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.....**  
  
* * * * *  
  
Down the sidewalk...  
  
"Well, that was interesting," I said to myself. I looked over my notes again and sighed. I was walking home. I was about three blocks away when suddenly someone pulled me into a bush.  
  
"Quiet!" the figure told me.  
  
"Who the hell are you?!" I whispered sharply.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I've never done this before..Heh, my name's Lisa."  
  
"Lisa? As in Lisa Simpson?"  
  
"Yup, that's me! Heh...I need to talk to you," she said nervously.  
  
"Well, you didn't need to pull me into the bushes!" I yelled.  
  
"I'm sorry! I heard that you had an assignment. To interview Sideshow Bob."  
  
"Yeah. Your point?"  
  
"Listen, Sideshow Bob is bad news! You should get someone else to interview."  
  
"No WAY!" I yelled.  
  
Lisa gasped. ''Why?" she asked curiously.  
  
"Cuz, I like Bob. He's nice."  
  
"I don't believe my ears! C'mon!" She grabbed my arm and ran. I gave a yelp. I was being kidnapped by an eight-year-old.  
  
After we ran down a few blocks we both ran into Lisa's house. 742 Evergreen Terrace. Hmm..Must remember..  
  
"Hi, dad!" Lisa yelled. "I'll be in my room!" She ran with me up the stairs.  
  
"Wait a minute!" her father replied. His name was Homer. He stood up from the couch and looked at Lisa, holding my hand. "Something's not right here," Homer noticed.  
  
"Oh! Um....uh-"  
  
"I know what's wrong here....YOU lost the remote, didn't you?!" Homer yelled.  
  
Lisa sighed. "I think you're were siting on i-"  
  
Homer ran off.  
  
I blinked and looked at Lisa.  
  
"Nice dad."  
  
"Eh..."  
  
In Lisa's Room...  
  
"So you like Sideshow Bob?" Lisa asked with a nervous face.  
  
"Yeah. You guys have it different. YOU guys were against him," I explained. "He has this..flare..."  
  
"I understand. If you continue to see him then you will get attached somehow. But you must be aware who you're dealing with, Zoey! SIDESHOW BOB! He's dangerous!"  
  
"I know! I KNOW!" I yelled. "But...I can't help it, Lisa. I didn't have too many friends."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"No one liked the stuff I liked. I was in the movie "102 Dalamtians."  
  
"You were?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. I was Oddball."  
  
"Ah...I see..."  
  
"But Bob assured me that it's all right. So he;s sorta like my only friend. Besides you and Bart I mean. I can...sorta understand him too...I'll be careful.."  
  
"Oh, all right. But I'm just warning you; based on experience. Please be careful, Zoey."  
  
I sighed. "All right, Lisa. I will." I pat Lisa on the head and she giggled. "I must be going. I'll see you tomorrow. I wanna hear some saxaphone soon!" And with that, I left.  
  
"I hope you'll be careful, Zoey..."  
  
"LISA! WHERE'S THE DAMN REMOTE?!" Homer yelled.  
  
"COMING!" Lisa yelled, and she ran downstairs.  
  
  
  
In the Jail....  
  
".....so I, Mayor Joe Quimby, allow 'Sideshow' Bob Underdunk Terwilliger to be released back into society." He cleared his throat. "Vote for me," he muttered in a low tone.  
  
"YES!" Bob cried. "I'm free! Free! Liberation!"  
  
There was no crowd, of course. They learned how Sideshow Bob was.  
  
"Hmph...damn Springfield.." Bob muttered. "Oh well! At least I'm free! Now I'm going to go to library....I'm coming, Emily! Mr. Shakespheare!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
I walked away from Lisa's house. She nice, I thought. I remembered something. Ah! Mom wanted a few books on cooking. She needs them ALL. I ran to the Library. I panted, still running. I stopped and leaned on a wall of an office building. I sighed, and caught my breath. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into a nearby alley.  
  
"Hey! Let go-!"  
  
A hand covered my mouth and I struggled to get free. Let go of me, I wanted to cry. I was suddenly making myself exhausted, so I gave up. I was dragged away silently.  
  
For a second, the hand was removed from my mouth.  
  
"Who are-?!"  
  
Again, it covered my mouth, as soon as it was removed.  
  
"Hmm. So you're his new friend, huh? Well...he still thinks he can do better," a voice said.  
  
I grunted trying to free myself again, but to my avail, I couldn't. He was too strong.  
  
I was then, thrown onto the ground. I gave a yelp and skid across the concrete.  
  
"Ugh..who are you?" I asked, grasping my arm, badly bruised.  
  
"I'm...an acquaintance."  
  
I looked up to see a blonde haired man. Sophisticated; like Bob, but he looked a tad pimpy. He stood up straight and had a glint of evil in his eyed.  
  
"Why'd you-?"  
  
"Oh...to teach a lesson."  
  
"To who?" I asked, still grasping my arm.  
  
"You'll see! Ha ha ha!" He quickly grabbed me again and went around the building. The library was a few feet away. He looked up and saw a ladder. It led to the roof of the office building. He grabbed my arm and shoved me up the ladder and made me climb to the roof. When I reached the top, I fell onto my knees and moaned.  
  
"He should be around..." the man said. "Aha! There he is!"  
  
I grunted and sat up. I looked over the edge and saw Bob, just outside the library. Again, the man took me by the arm and covered my mouth again. He placed me behind him, facing away from the library. I tried to protest but I was so tired from the climb. Must have been his plan.  
  
"Bob! Over here!" the blonde man called.  
  
Bob blinked and looked up. He glanced at the office building and gasped. He eyed the man on the roof and ran towards the entrance. He looked up again and growled. "What do YOU want?!" Bob yelled.  
  
"Oh...maybe...revenge?" the man asked.  
  
"Cecil!" Bob cried.  
  
Cecil? I didn't know who he was...I never heard of him. I never saw him on the news either. Only about Bob.  
  
"What are you doing?" Bob asked angrily.  
  
"Getting revenge!!" Cecil yelled back, in the same angry tone Bob used.  
  
"How? By jumping?" Bob asked with his hands on his hips.  
  
"No...by this!" He pushed me near the edge and had his hand over my mouth again. I managed to get free for a second.  
  
"BOB!" I screamed. Cecil, quickly covered my mouth again.  
  
"What the-?!" Bob looked up and saw me by the edge of the building.  
  
"That's right, Robert. A child. I might kill her," Cecil bragged.  
  
"Let Zoey go!" Bob ordered.  
  
"AHA!! You DO know her! Ha ha ha!! That's how I'll get my revenge!" Cecil laughed evilly. I looked down at Bob helplessly and whimpered. Bob growled.  
  
'Ugh...the things my brother would do...' Bob thought. 'Just because I got hit by pies and got to wear a costume instead of him. Argh, now he's putting someone else's life in danger, just to get back at me. I can't let him do that, even if it was...Bart's.Why, Bob? Well, maybe she was the only one who liked me...and if she's gone then it's back into the hateful Springfield I have always known!' 


	4. Hanging On

Chapter Four: Hanging On  
  
"Bwa ha ha ha ha!!" Cecil laughed. He was going to win. Maybe....ooh, I'm so weak..  
  
"Cecil! Have you gone mad?!" Bob yelled.  
  
"How many times have I told you, yes!" he answered.  
  
I squirmed again, still trying to free myself. I looked down at Bob and he sighed. He then had an 'idea' look. He started to point to his elbow, smiling evily.  
  
"Elbow?" I said to myself. Elbow! Of course! I gave a growl and bit Cecil's hand.  
  
"Yow!" he yelled. He immediately took his hand away from my mouth. I elbowed him in the gut. He gave another yell and I just ran out of the way, towards the flight of stairs.  
  
"Thank you!" I yelled down to Bob.  
  
"No problem!" he yelled back.  
  
"Not today!" Cecil shouted. He suddenly skid across the slick floor using his large shoes and blocked the door. "No....way.....out."  
  
I panted and took some steps back. "Cecil, please! Don't kill me! You can have revenge without killing the innocent bystander!"  
  
"Oh, but you are not the innocent bystander. You're my brother's friend. A fiend, to me. I...envy you, Zoey."  
  
Brother? HIS brother?? Geez, why didn't- oy...I looked at Bob and gave a sigh. "Why would you envy me? I was just doing a school assignment."  
  
"It doesn't matter!" Cecil barked. "I would like a friend or two!!"  
  
"Friend? You're lonely?" I asked nervously.  
  
"Yes, I am," he replied, sadly. "Very."  
  
Bob shrugged. "Liar! Zoey, don't believe him!"  
  
I glanced back at Bob. "Wait, Bob, maybe he's-"  
  
Cecil grabbed my arm and took out a revolver. He pressed it against my head. "Well...I see my brother is NEVER fooled."  
  
"Like before, Cecil, I will say it again: 'Well, obviously!'"  
  
"D-d-d-don't shoot, d-don't shoot," I begged nervously.  
  
Cecil smiled evilly. I was at his mercy. Hepless; pathetic, useless...  
  
Scared.  
  
"Cecil, please! I beg of you! Let the girl go! She did nothing!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Ugh...stupid mind game...Cecil, you can do better!"  
  
"Better! Of course! I can kill her in a better way!"  
  
"No, no! Not like-!"  
  
"Thank you, Robert...so kind.." Cecil grinned.  
  
"Cecil!" Bob yelled.  
  
He walked to one edge of the roof and sighed. He released the gun from my head. He gave me a shove.  
  
"Hey!! What the-!!" I screamed and fell off the roof's edge. I fell about two stories but managed to grab a pole. I clung onto it with all my might. I was still a good seven stories away from death. I gave another scream.  
  
"Geez..." Bob muttered.  
  
"Damn pole," Cecil said. "Oh, it hurts to be so cruel." Cecil pondered for a moment. He scoffed. "Hah! No it doesn't!"  
  
"Help me!" I yelled.  
  
Out of nowhere, Bart and Lisa appeared on their bikes. "Hey, look! It's that girl!" Lisa yelled.  
  
I quickly spotted them. "Lisa! Help! Bart!"  
  
Bart sang a fanfare. "Looks like someone to rescue..again!"  
  
"Bart! Call 911!" Lisa yelled.  
  
"Nine, one, what?"  
  
"One!"  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"ONE!"  
  
"WHO won?!"  
  
'Had to be Bart,' I thought..  
  
Lisa sighed and ran into the building. I, however, continued to hang by a thread in peril seven stories high. Bart noticed Bob standing by.  
  
"Eep.." Bart said, blinking.  
  
Bob gave a yell, "Aah! Hello, Bart."  
  
"Eep."  
  
"Bart, you still believe that I still want to kill you?"  
  
"Eep."  
  
"I'll take that as a maybe. Bart, please. Help Zoey."  
  
"Ee-huh? Why?"  
  
"Isn't she a classmate?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then help her!"  
  
"But I don't know her! And I bet YOU want to kill her!"  
  
"Unfortunately, Cecil's doing that for me." He pointed to the roof. Bart gasped and saw Cecil by the edge over Zoey.  
  
"Zoey, Zoey, Zoey. How will you ever understand?" Cecil said.  
  
My eyes widened. "What?! I understand that YOU are crazy!"  
  
Cecil laughed. "I already knew that. Now go ahead and plunge to your death."  
  
"Never!" I yelled defiantly.  
  
"Then I'll help you," he replied. He began firing shots near my hands. I gave small yelps of fear. He was trying to scare me off the freakin' pole.  
  
"Cecil! Quit it!" Bob yelled.  
  
"Nope."  
  
He continued to fire and Bob slapped his forehead. He ran off into a joke shop. What will he find?  
  
"Bob!" Bart yelled. "Get rank 'Long-Range!"  
  
"Ooh! Good choice." Bob ran out of the store with a bottle.  
  
Cecil shrugged, finding out he had a few bullets left.  
  
"Maybe I should aim DIRECTLY at the hand.." He pointed the gun to my right hand and smirked. Lisa appeared on the roof a few meters away from Cecil. "NOW!" she cried.  
  
Bob sprayed a long but strong stream of water at Cecil. Cecil looked up and dropped his gun in surprise, and was blasted to the other side of the roof. He now, was hanging by a pole.  
  
"ARGH! What was that!" he yelled.  
  
"Long-Range Seltzer! Available at any joke shop retailer near you!" Bart said and winked.  
  
"Hey! Hey!" Krusty said, but he was nowhere to be seen....(/=)  
  
"Curses! Stopped by seltzer! BOB!"  
  
"Yes?" said Bob.  
  
"How could you...? Your own-"  
  
"'Brother'? Hah! 'Maniac''s more like it!" Bob dropped the bottle onto the ground and ran to the other side of the building.  
  
"Um, excuse me...but...WHAT ABOUT ME?!" I cried, slipping.  
  
"Don't worry," Bart assured. He took out a small pink bag and started to blow into it. I began to slip more.  
  
"BART!" I yelled.  
  
"Jussa minute!" he yelled back, in between puffs. The bag was now as big as a car. (If you thought Bart was full of hot air, you're correct!) He put the bag onto the sidewalk. "OK! DROP!"  
  
"What?!" I yelled.  
  
"You can fall now!" Bart said.  
  
I sighed and let go of the pole. I screamed all the way down. I landed in the pink bag and there was a nice long 'Pppppppffffffffffffttttttttttt'. Bart was laughing his head off. Lisa sighed.  
  
"Overgrown Whopee Cushion..how convenient," she said.  
  
Bart continued to laugh. "Yeah, isn't it?"  
  
I jumped off the pink deflated bag. "Thanks, Bart, in...any way.."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
"But where's-?"  
  
"GET ME DOWN FROM HERE, ROBERT!! IMEDIATELY!!" Cecil yelled from the other side of the building.  
  
"Nah, not today," Bob replied.  
  
We all ran to the other side. Cecil was hanging from a pole, soaking wet from seltzer.  
  
"This is utterly humiliating!" Cecil declared.  
  
"No, brother! It's not humiliating! It's hilarious!" Bob replied.  
  
"No fair! Get me down NOW!"  
  
"Sorry, Cecil!" I called to him.  
  
"Yeah, big sorry!" Bob said. "But big laughs..."  
  
"Listen, Cecil! We'll get ya down IF you go straight to jail for attempted murder," I suggested.  
  
"You mean it?" he asked kindly.  
  
"No, but you WILL go straight to jail!" Bart yelled.  
  
"I want to get down from here!" he yelled angrily. "Please! Let me down! I won't try kill anyone this week ever again!"  
  
"Hmm..what do you think?" Lisa asked Bart.  
  
"Nah! Let's watch him slip and fall!" Bart said.  
  
"That is not-YAAH!" Cecil slipped a bit but regained balance."Not funny!"  
  
"But tourists should come right about......now," Bart said. Suddenly, a mob of tourists appeared with Hawaiian shirts and cameras and began to take pictures of the soaked Cecil.  
  
Cecil moaned. "Ugh, an utter tragedy..."  
  
"But a wonderful mirth!" Bob called as he walked away.  
  
I sighed as I looked toward the library. Closed. I sighed again, knowing I was going to have a burnt frozen pizza dinner for dinner...I decided to walk home. "Thank you Bart, Lisa," I said.  
  
"No problemo," Bart replied.  
  
"It was nothing," Lisa said.  
  
I waved good-bye and walked home.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I sighed. What a day, I thought. I passed by Homer's house and laughed to myself. I rubbed my eyes. It was a little late. It started to get chilly too. I walked a little faster. Suddenly, a shadow appeared next to me. I stood still, and turned around.  
  
"Mind if I walk you home?"  
  
It was Bob. Surprise..  
  
"If you want to," I replied. "It'd be nice for an expert homicidal maniac to protect a thirteen year old girl."  
  
Bob laughed. "You could just get a gun."  
  
"Any homicidal maniac is just as dangerous with OR without a gun, but in some way just as dangerous as the weapon he uses."  
  
"Clever words, Zoey-san."  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm a regular poet."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Guess."  
  
Bob paused, and realized my confusing joke. "Funny," he said. "C'mon, before it gets cold."  
  
"It's already c-"  
  
"ColdER," he corrected.  
  
We continued to walk down the street silently. I yawned and glanced at my watch. 8:19. Ooh, Mom's gonna kill me. I glanced at Bob. But if Bob kills me first...  
  
Finally we reached my home. Fireflies glittered like a 2nd grader's art project. I sighed again and shook Bob's hand.  
  
"Thank you, Bob," I said with a small smile.  
  
"Oh, getting revenge on my brother is my best hobby. My job really. I didn't know you didn't know him. I'm sorry for that."  
  
"It's okay, I never heard of him. On the news anyway."  
  
"Well, read a newspaper."  
  
"Thanks," I replied as if I was insulted.  
  
"Good night," Bob said. He took a bow and stepped down from the steps. He smiled. Then, he walked away, down the dark lonely street.  
  
"'Night," I replied in a whisper. I entered my house and smiled again.  
  
"Zoey, honey? Is that you?" Mom called.  
  
"No, it's the Grim Reaper," I replied.  
  
"Oh, it IS Zoey. Why are you late?" she asked.  
  
"Hung out at Lisa's," I lied.  
  
"'Lisa's'?"  
  
"Lisa Simpson."  
  
"Oh, how nice! You have friends already! Well, there's some burnt pizza in the oven. Help yourself."  
  
"Thanks.."  
  
"And also, when's that interview thing due?" Mom asked.  
  
"Thursday."  
  
"Ok. G'night, then, sweetie."  
  
I sighed with a smile. She loves me so much, I thought. I looked in the oven and saw a half charcoal-colored pizza. Dinner-time...I took a slice and yawned. What a day..being hung from a pole at...oh I dunno, five stories or somethin'. I took a bite out of the pizza. Tasted like burnt toast with tomato sauce. Maybe I'll go to the library tomorrow for those books for Mom. She needs them desperately. I took another bite and flinched. Maybe I'll run into Bob too....Suddenly, my eyes widened. "WATER!!!" 


	5. Mysterious Subconcious, PT 1

Chapter 5: Mysterious Subconcious, Part 1  
  
I tossed and turned in bed, uneasy. My eyes were shut, but I moaned softly. Something was happening...  
  
*Keep going, Smithers...it's working...that situation was perfect...*  
  
*Right away, sir*  
  
FLASH!  
  
I woke up and yawned. A happy Saturday morning and I gots a week for the project. Ms. Krabappel postponed it for a date with Principal Skinner. I immediately got dressed and ran out the door. Destination: Library.  
  
"Do do do do do do do..." I sang to myself.  
  
I skipped down the sidewalk and yawned. I passed by the office building where I was 'captive'. I laughed and crossed the street. I entered the library. It was a little quiet but there were sounds a-stir. I noticed some people: Mayor Joe Quimby with his Secret-Service people, looking up the latest scandals...Professor Frink with some equations...I quickly ran to the cooking section. Bad choice. I ran down an aisle but tripped over someone's foot. I gave a yell and fell onto the carpet floor. I moaned, sat up and rubbed my head.  
  
"Ohh, I'm so sorry! I was a little too fast," I said.  
  
"Oh, it's al-Zoey?"  
  
I blinked. "Bob?"  
  
"Oh my...I'm so sorry about my feet. They're a size too big."  
  
"ONE size too big?" I asked.  
  
"Hah. You're right. Many sizes."  
  
"What are you doing here anyway?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, just catching up on my reading. They didn't give me too many books in prison. So I had to sneak in my own batch. Oh, here." He pulled out a brown book and tossed it to me.  
  
"Ibsen?" I asked curiously.  
  
"Yup. Four plays. You can have it."  
  
"Thank you!" I looked at my new book. I read only two plays by Ibsen; The Wild Duck and A Doll's House. I liked A Doll's House.  
  
"Now, do you need any help?" Bob asked.  
  
"I do need some cooking books. My mom needs some help with her cuisine."  
  
"All right. Let's go." We both got up and strolled to the cooking books.  
  
I glanced to my right. "Principal...?"  
  
"Ah! Zoey!" Skinner said. "What are you doing here?" he shifted his eyes. "AND with Sideshow Bob!" he said as if trying to change the subject somehow.  
  
I stammered a bit. "Oh, that! Oh, um, errand. And um...tripped over his foot."  
  
Bob nodded in agreement.  
  
"Okay, but...you never saw me," Skinner said. He started to walk towards the check-out counter but he dropped a book. He stammered as I picked up the book.  
  
"D-D-on't read it the-!"  
  
"'Chicken Soup for the Mother and Son's Soul'? Principal?"  
  
By the time I looked up he was gone.  
  
"Eh, go figure."  
  
"Really," said Bob.  
  
We both went around to another aisle and found a good bunch of books. I smiled, knowing I would never eat burnt food again...if I'm lucky. I took three and walked over to the fiction section and set my books to the floor. I picked out 'Ender's Game' by Orson Scott Card. Interesting...I began to skim through the book, and each page was filled with excitement. I'll check it out, I thought. Why not?  
  
I glanced around the shelf and saw Bob flipping through some pages of a long book. Probably one of those books that just talk about the author's opinion on some topic. Of course! Politiics! Bob looked up and saw me. I was suprised so I ducked back behind the shelf. I shifted my eyes.  
  
What was I doing? I was hiding from Bob, that's what. But why? Why exactly? And was Bob hiding from me? Naw...I glanced around the shelf and saw Bob. He suddenly eyed the book he was reading. He was avoiding my eye contact. This is strange...I started to read Ender's Game again and looked up to see Bob looking at me. I blinked and sighed. I smiled nervously and Bob smiled back. He then began to read his book again. I looked around and decided to check out the books. I walked to the counter and glanced back. Still reading. I suddenly started to blush. I made a small shriek like Homer does and gulped. I had to sign up for a Springfield Library card and FAST, before I humiliate myself. I took the registration sheet and filled it out. I turned it in and received a laminated card with Jebediah Springfield on it. I signed it and smiled.  
  
"I'm now truly a Springfieldian," I said with a misty voice.  
  
I walked out the door with a bag of books. I walked down the sidewalk and yawned. Maybe I can catch some Itchy and Scratchy. I sighed again. What was I supposed to do? I rubbed my arm and made a small groan.  
  
"What am I supposed to do?" I said to myself. Maybe I should go home. That was my original plan...maybe I should be spontaneous. Do something radical..something wack-o..something that you, the fanfic reader, may not expect. I smirked.  
  
*Keep going, Smithers...*  
  
"Someting unexpected..." I said. "Oh, what the hell.."  
  
I dropped my bag and ran back to the library. I looked around and ran down to the Politics section. I looked around and saw Bob reading his book. I looked down at him and smiled. Bob glanced up and smiled back. I took his book and tossed it aside. I took his hand and exited the library with him. I ran down the sidewalk picking up my bag of books, Bob still behind me. I then ran down into an alley.  
  
I caught my breath and looked at Bob.who was quite surprised at my act. He just looked at me, wondering why he's in an alley with a girl. Something unexpected...  
  
"Listen, Bob," I began. "About the library thing-"  
  
"Say no more," he said. "I was just only..."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I...too, I was just merely..." I looked at him again. He just stared back, with a touch of worry. I sighed. He then, in a flash, took my hands and whirled me in a spin. I laughed.  
  
"What was that for?" I asked, still laughing.  
  
"Hmm....maybe...nah," he replied and he dropped me onto the ground.  
  
"Heh, well.."  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"What was that for, Bob? You know...the library thing..."  
  
"Oh, that...well, um, let's see," Bob began. He then sighed deeply. I pushed some strands of hair back. I just sighed and blurted, "You like me don't you?"  
  
Bob stammered. "I-I-I-I don't-don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Don't play stupid! You like me and you're afraid cuz I'm only thirteen, right?"  
  
"Well I-"  
  
"And another thing! If it'll make you feel ANY better, I like you!"  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
"That's right," I declared. "I..." Now was when I realized my mistake and stupidity. I gulped. "I...gotta go! See ya!" I ran down out of the alley but Bob pulled me back by my shirt. I laughed nervously and Bob smirked. "So you like me?" he asked.  
  
"Heh..."  
  
"Not too many people have liked me before.."  
  
I sighed.  
  
"Well...I like you," Bob said.  
  
I blinked. "Huh? You do?"  
  
"Of course, Zoey! You're my friend."  
  
'Thanks.."  
  
"But...I don't like you...like that."  
  
"Oh? What does that mean?" I asked.  
  
"Well, I kinda..."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I think I..."  
  
"Bob! You can tell me. Now what is it?" I asked impatiently.  
  
"Forget it," he assured.  
  
I sighed. "Fine then, but I have to-"  
  
Bob then suddenly took me into his arms and kissed me. I blinked, thinking, I bet mom'll sue for child harassment or something..I soon just melted into the kiss and closed my eyes. Suddenly, a voice boomed in surprise:  
  
"AHA!!"  
  
I parted from Bob's lips and gasped. The had voice belonged to Cecil.  
  
*End it now, Smithers, NOW!*  
  
*Yes, yes, Sir!!*  
  
Another flash. 


	6. Mysterious Subconcious, PT 2

Chapter Six: Mysterious Subconcious, Part II  
  
"Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!"  
  
I bolted upright in my bed and panted, drenched in sweat. My mom burst in, with cooking pots as armor and a spatula in her hand.  
  
"Where is he, Zoey?! Where's the burglar?!" she cried out. "I'm gonna get him! I'm gonna whoop his-!"  
  
"Mom, there's no burglar!" I yelled, still panting.  
  
"What?" she asked confusingly.  
  
"It was a nightmare, Mom.."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A NIGHTMARE!!" I screamed.  
  
"Oh...?"  
  
Mom put her hands on her hips. "Just a nightmare?"  
  
I gave an exapserated sigh and fell back onto my bed. "You may go now," I said stubbornly.  
  
So she left.  
  
Silence.  
  
"A dream....just a dream..."  
  
I stared at the ceiling for a while. "A dream," I muttered. "It was a damn dream?!!"  
  
"I hope so, dear!" Mom called from the hallway.  
  
I swallowed. "Why-What- a dream?! That pizza needs work!!" I yelled. I wiped my forehead. "I don't understand...the library...the thing- alley-- the---oh God...I need an answer! It better have not have been a prediction!!"  
  
Suddenly--Next Day--  
  
"I think it was," Lisa said.  
  
"But-But-!" I ruffled my hair worriedly. "How can this be?! It's-It's- !"  
  
"Just keep your distance," she assured. "And ask Ms. Krabappel for someone else."  
  
"Maybe you're right...I should ask Ms.- wait a minute..why am I in 4th grade? I'm 13!"  
  
Lisa shrugged her shoulders, giving the 'I dunno' sound.  
  
I blinked and looked at my birthday, and realized my mom screwed up BIG time with the registration papers. "STU-pid..."  
  
  
  
(At Home) "No, Mom, Zoey's 9....no? 13?? Are you- uh oh.."  
  
"But then what will I tell Bob?" I asked Lisa half-heartedly. "I can't just diss him."  
  
"Diss....?"  
  
"Abandon!" I yelled. "What am I gonna do?!"  
  
"Apologize."  
  
"I can't do that."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Lisa!! Because!!" I shouted. "This is TOO wierd!! This has never happened...have wierd things occured here?" I asked.  
  
"Um . . ."  
  
*"I come in peace..."- Glowing Mr. Burns*  
  
"Not that I recall," Lisa replied with a worried smile.  
  
"I'll just go and apologize...give some psyche thingy..."  
  
"But wait, I don't understand this..how did you know that it was Cecil himself?"  
  
"I don't know," I replied. "I'm wierd. I researched a bit and found out that he was Bob's brother...AND the building thing....but I don't get it...I'm screwed up....  
  
***Like this fanfic, I thought.***  
  
"Well, maybe it was just a coincidence, Zoey. Or maybe you have a VERY over-active imagination. Or maybe you just have psychic abilities. Or even-"  
  
"GREAT...I have ESP," I said in a low-tone. "Geez...this can't get-"  
  
"Hello, Zoey."  
  
I looked up. It was Bob.  
  
"Ack!" Lisa exclaimed. "What do you want?"  
  
"I wanted to make sure you were all right," Bob replied. "You ARE all right, right?"  
  
I gulped quietly. "I'm okay!" Physically. Not mentally.  
  
"I hope so. Did the event yesterday give you a scare?"  
  
I shook my head. "Not too much...it had an effect on my subconcious though."  
  
"Bad dream?"  
  
"Wild...dream."  
  
"I don't want to know," Bob persisted. "I think it's better for me, personally, to stay out of your mind, don't you think, Zoey? Not to offend you or anything."  
  
"Yeah," I replied with a slant smile. "It would be nice."  
  
Bob nodded. "And you, Lisa?"  
  
"I'm still suspicious, Bob," said Lisa. "But I'm all right."  
  
"Good enough," Bob said dusting off his sleeve. "I better be off then."  
  
"Wait," I began. "I can't....continue...the interview."  
  
"You can't?" Bob said with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"No...I'm not well...I need a reassignment. I'm sorry."  
  
"This isn't my fault is it?" Bob asked, scratching his head.  
  
"Partially," I admitted worriedly. "But mostly your brother's."  
  
"Bah..." Bob trailed. "He's crazy."  
  
"Like you?" Lisa said.  
  
"I wouldn't speak, little Simpson," Bob replied. "I understand, Zoey. It was nice while it lasted."  
  
I nodded slowly, but out of Bob's vision. "I guess.."  
  
"Well, I have to go...the library closes in six hours."  
  
"Six?"  
  
"'The early bird...'" Bob walked away quietly while whistling a tune.  
  
"I suppose that went well," Lisa said straightening her necklace.  
  
"Maybe," I replied as a picked up a blade of grass. "But why do I have this funny feeling?"  
  
Lisa sighed and stroked her hand across the grass.  
  
  
  
**At the Nuclear Power Plant....**  
  
"Sir, are you sure you are all right with this?"  
  
"I am and am, Smithers. This is my most strange yet best concotion ever!" Mr. Burns exclaimed. "A new science is born!!"  
  
"What science is that, Sir?" Smithers asked curiously.  
  
Mr. Burns chuckled. "Control of the Mind."  
  
"But sir, did you have to use that girl?  
  
"Of course. Who else could I use?"  
  
Homer whistled quietly in his office, watching some red lights flash... 


	7. Burns's (EVIL) Plan

Chapter Seven: Burns's (EVIL) Plan  
  
It's been hectic for our hero, little Zoey. She's tired, dull, bored...and maybe even ill. She hasn't seen Bob for days; she can't anyway. That's the rain on her parade.  
  
Zoey moaned, poking her so-called lasagna at lunch. Lunchlady Doris didn't gain Zoey's trust, so Zoey didn't consume her meals. Bart noticed Zoey for a second. he became a bit concerned; not for Zoey's brownie though.  
  
"You okay?" he asked. He scratched his head curiously.  
  
"I've been better..." Zoey said, sighing.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I'm really confused."  
  
"What else is new?"  
Zoey frowned at Bart, snapping her plastic fork in half.  
  
"Sorry, sorry!" said Bart. "Confused, eh? I do that ALL the time. What's up?"  
  
"Well, I had a really wierd dream. I didn't want to dream it though; it's not a prediction to the future, and besides...the chances of that are..slim."  
  
"Ohh...I see. So you want to know why you had this dream?"  
  
"Exactly," Zoey said. "I mean...I just don't...do that..." Zoey pushed her tray away. "If you don't mind, I can't tell you about this. Okay?"  
  
"All right." Bart sipped his milk (or Malk) and blinked. "I hope ya figure this out soon. You seem kinda tired...plus you got that interview to do."  
  
Zoey gasped. "Oh no! The interview! It's due in two days!!"  
  
Bart raised an eyebrow. "What? Bob's no good now?"  
  
"I can't do Bob!"  
  
"Wha--why?"  
"He was in the dream!"  
  
Bart put his milk down. "Wow...you really are screwed."  
  
Zoey rested her head onto the table and groaned. "Long day, long day..."  
  
Then, as if any more could go wrong, Milhouse joined them at the table.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Smithers! How is that fellow doing?"  
  
"Who, sir?"  
"You know, the jackass!"  
  
"Oh, Homer Simpson? He's asleep."  
  
"Really? Are you sure?" Burns asked.  
"Yes, sir. Just about," his servant replied.  
  
"Excellent." Burns twiddled his fingers famously. "My best concotion ever."  
  
Smithers nodded slightly, "Sir...isn't this still..drastic?"  
"Why of course it is! I mean, you can't go places without being drastic! And of course, World Domination IS going somewhere isn't it?" Burns asked.  
  
"Well, technically...I...I...see, sir."  
  
"Let's check on Simpson."  
  
Smithers switched on the screens. Burns smiled, spotting Homer Simpson sat at his console, asleep. Drooling lightly, he was still in a deep sleep, dreaming of...  
  
"Let's check."  
  
Another bright flash.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Donutland, Donutland, where all the glazed ones sing; Donutland, Donutland, joy to me please bring!" Homer sang joyfully from his throne, wielding a septer. "Hee-hee! I'm a King! Like that Lumber Jack King! Glazed, peppermint, jelly-filled, let all of your goodness ring!!"  
  
"All Hail Homer!" cried the donuts, flailing their arms. Sprinkles and crumbs flew about the sweet crowd.  
  
"Hehehe...they're in the palm of my hand, and soon into my stomach!" Homer snickered, chomping into an eclair.  
  
"Smithers! I've done it!" Burns exclaimed, watching from an artificial cloud. "I've mastered that dope Simpson's mind! With this technology, I can control ALL of Springfield, and then--!"  
  
"Ontario?" asked Smithers hopefully.  
  
"Even better!"  
  
"Florida!"  
  
"No! The World, Smithers! You'll see!" Burns grinned at his guinea pig, who was eating some peasants non-stop.  
  
Smithers cleared his throat. "And...sir, wouldn't that...well, the girl--why was she--"  
  
"A 'minor' test," Burns joked. "Not a matter! She's young, she won't figure it out."  
  
"But, let me assure you--Bart and Lisa, Homer's kids, they've foiled some plans of yours, and they're younger than the girl. She's 13."  
  
"I...see...well, then, get rid of her. And them."  
  
"And how, sir?"  
  
Burns laughed at Smithers. He then proclaimed, "By using this technology!"  
  
"S-Sir?"  
  
"Well, Smithers, who has she been hanging around with? Hmm?"  
  
"Um..besides the Simpsons, I believe Robert Terwilliger, Also Known As Sideshow Bob. He's--"  
"Precisely! Another criminal mastermind, with, hoo-hoo, REDRUM in his mind..."  
  
"Red--?"  
"MURDER. We get control of his mind, then we can control his thoughts. Thoughts control actions, Smithers. Actions control habits. We can make Robert into a pawn for our plan--"  
  
"Our-?"  
"To take over the world!!" Burns laughed evilly, spreading his arms wide. He grinned at Homer, who was now licking his lips and sighed. "Yes, Smithers...get rid of the girl...her name?"  
"Zoey."  
  
"Get rid of Zoey...along with those meddling Simpsons. Use Sideshow...Bob. He'll be perfect, and besides, Zoey wouldn't know what hit her. He's perfect...then everything will be fine. Perfect. No interruption."  
  
"I...see, sir."  
  
"Now! Don't wake up Homer. Hehe, I need him in the mode. Find Bob, track him down, and take control."  
  
Smithers swallowed hard.  
  
"Smithers!!"  
  
"Right away sir."  
  
Smithers left, biting his nail.  
  
"Excellent," said Burns evilly. "Excellent..." 


End file.
